Montruex Love
by threnodyforthesoul
Summary: love at the Montruex entertainment Complex at the time of its burning


Montreux Love

James Stromborg manipulated and forced his way through the crowd. The sound of Frank Zappa's guitar flitted from the stage, rebounding off the walls and finally coming to rest on the audiences ears like a living thing. The sound called James as surely as any narcotic urge would.

The Montreux Entertainment Complex was a colossal building. The theater this concert was taking place at was on the lower level, it was only the belly of the giant. The whole complex was shabby and run down. The paint was peeling, hardly any of the neon signs worked anymore, and the windows were gritty and translucent. It was as direly in need of repair as a senior citizen is in need of a new hip. Yet despite this, one of the biggest concerts in Switzerland was being held there. People were crushed against the walls, some were crushed against the stage, their abdomens pressing against the wood while their arms and chests overflowed onto the stage, making it slick with sweat.

Despite the seemingly solid wall of bodies blocking his way, he squirmed around, under, and when the time called for it, over, like an insect in a crowded hive. Finally he became one of the privileged few who got to smash their stomachs against the stage that Frank Zappa stood upon. The people here gazed at him with wide eyes and open mouths , which was either from awe or from loss of wind. James felt the vibrations of good music and lost himself in it. The next few songs were total bliss. He was here, watching his god perform live. His karma finally taking a turn for the best. Or so he thought.

It didn't matter that he had snuck out to see this concert with his friend Jamie. She had been James's best friend since they were youngsters, and her love of rock music was profuse. It didn't matter that they drove here with Jamie's brother who was only 16, and had no license. But he did have a mustache and he had learned from experience that a little facial hair goes a long way in the game of age judging.

James fled his thoughts as Jamie popped up next to him by the stage. The wear and tear of the human wall and left her no worse for wear. Her straight, long, brown hair was undisturbed and her amber/brown eyes(they were brown when she was sad, amber when she was happy, like now) glinted as they fell upon Zappa. "Hey" she piped. The pressure of her body against the stage forced her chest and arms over the edge of the stage and for an instant James caught himself looking at her breasts. He had turned 14 three months ago. Jamie had turned 14 two months and 28 days ago. Quickly, James tore his gaze from her chest, embarrassed at the thought of being caught since all the other people's eyes were focused on stage. But he thought Jamie had sensed his stare because when he looked at her again her face was split into a sly smile. Flustered, he once again turned his face to the stage , his feelings split between watching the concert and the thought of Jamie

Finally Frank Zappa finished his set. James erupted into cheering along with the rest of the crowd. All their joy, condolences, and commitment expressed in one guttural roar that lasted a good 5 minutes. Even before the cheering died down completely, the emcee came out and tried to quiet in a mixture of Swedish and rough English so he could announce the next band. As he started to announce the next band another cheer went up drowning out his words like a tsunami. The ruffled emcee put the mike down rather forcefully and stalked off the stage in annoyance. Great peals of laughter floated from his crowd like water vapor on a humid day. "The emcee's never learn, that was once of the oldest tricks in the book to get them offstage and on with the show" thought James as he chuckled to himself. His next chuckle caught in his throat like a stale piece of French bread as he felt Jamie's soft hand gently grasp his. He glanced over in surprise and was even more surprised when he felt his hand naturally curl around hers. It seemed to boost her confidence and she casually pulled him away from the stage into the crowd. James followed with only one look back over his shoulder as Mother of Invention strolled on stage, instruments held aloft.

For the second time that night James squeezed and slithered through walls of people, never once letting go of Jamie's hand. At least this time, he thought, I didn't have to go over anyone. By the time he emerged from the crowd at the back of the theater his shirt was stuck to his chest with sweat. A Jamie turned and glanced back at him he noted hers was too.

Finally, he decided it was time for him to take the initiative. He strolled past Jamie, still clasping her hand and walked to the nearest of the two narrow hallways that snaked towards the ground level of the complex. He felt the air cool as he stepped into the hallway and the volume of the concert diminished somewhat. He turned when they had rounded the first corner and Jamie bumped into him. He pressed her warm body against the wall and his body he pressed against hers. Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed her. At first he thought she wasn't going to respond, then he felt her tongue twitch against his and she returned the kiss.

The world was silent for a second or two, as though they were in a vacuem . Then, he realized that it really was silent! They couldn't hear anymore noise from the concert! Startled, he broke the kiss and turned in puzzlement. He ran back to the main theater to see a flare rising towards the ceiling. The whole crowd was silent, even the band had stopped playing as it floated lazily towards the low ceiling, as though of it's own accord. When it reached the peak of it's flight it hovered like a vulture, looking at the crowd below it like they were already carrion.

James needed to see no more. As he turned his back to run up the hall towards Jamie he felt the small rush of heat and light on his back as the flare erupted, sprouting flames, it lodged in the ceiling and almost immediately set the gracious amount of electrical wiring aflame. James sprinted back up the corridor. He slipped on a concert goers carelessly discarded piece of gum and winced and his knee slammed into the concrete. That instant was all it took for the crowd to catch up with him like an eagle swooping down on a worm. He felt himself shoved to the side of the hallway as the crowd began to swarm past him. He huddled close to the wall, a solitary rock in a rushing river, and curled into the instinctive fetal position. He felt feet connect with every part of his body, blacksmiths hammers beating him like he was an iron man.

The scene he witnessed in the hallway was straight out of an anarchist's nightmare. People crawled over and around people, the stronger shoving the weaker to the ground. Feral instinct shining in their eyes. The last thing James saw was tendrils of fire, the arms of Hades himself, reflected in the eyes of things that had only moments ago been human. Then, a boot clad foot connected with head and he felt himself spiraling into darkness. A darkness tinted with an orange glow, a glow cackling in the way only a fire can.

Kyle and Sam trudged down the gutted hallway, scorched black by the flames wrath. They had received distress calls from people who had exited the building and said there was a fire inside. They weren't the only fire station that had received calls. Two hundred men and 50 trucks had shown up at the scene, and immediately called in reinforcements. That was over two hours ago now the fire had been beaten back and reduced to just a few smoldering areas inside the ruined and partially collapsed entertainment complex, a fruitless king inside his ruined castle.

Now Sam, Kyle, and a few others were in there looking for survivors."Like there are any." Kyle thought to himself. He had been part of the department and been to enough blazes to know that the chance of survivors in this blaze were 1 in 1000.

He and Sam stalked down the hallway towards the lower theater where the blaze had started, kicking aside pieces of unrecognizable rubble. This hallway seemed to of survived most of the blaze, it was mostly made of concrete and only a few sections of the wooden ceiling had fallen in. Kyle cursed as he slipped on some gum, liquidated by the heat. As he started to rise from the ash strewn floor he glanced to his right and froze. Sticking from the pile of rubble was a hand, the skin black and sandpaperish, and the fingers were twitching.

"Sam get overt here!" he yelled,"Call a stretcher!" Sam rushed over and radioed in a stretcher, asking it to come to the south hallway of the lower theater, and to hurry. Kyle feverishly, but carefully, started removing the rubble that covered the mans body. When he had removed the rubble he saw it wasn't a man at all, but a kid.

"Jesus, he can't be older than 15" Kyle thought. His hand, legs, face, and head had suffered some bad burns, and for some reason

"Sam get over here!" he yelled again. Together they gently turned him over. His hair was all burned away, and his lips were cracked and bleeding, for some reason he reminded Kyle of a peach left too long in the sun, a very hot sun.

"Ok let's pick him up." Sam gripped his shoulder blades and Kyle gripped is legs. On the count of 3 they lifted. The boy screamed, a screech that rivaled the fiercest birds of prey.

James awoke screaming, and to a sensation worse than the fire itself ripping up his legs. His pants legs had disintegrated and one of the men trying to pick him up had grabbed his bloody and raw skin of his legs."Alright take off your jacket" one said to the other. He took the two jackets and tied them together with his and the other mans belt. They looked like firefighters but James wasn't sure. He couldn't think straight and everything seemed out of focus, as if hazed by the smoke inside of him. Before he realized what was happening they had rolled him onto the jackets. The thick fabric cut into his hand and scraped it raw. Gently, the men each grabbed 2 arms of a jacket and they lifted him off the ground. The makeshift stretcher bent with his weight but held. The strange procession slowly moved down the hall, and the image they conveyed was that of 2 grave diggers carrying a corpse.

As he lay on the stretcher he tried to get his thoughts in order. Remember what had happened after the boot had connected with his head. He couldn't recall a thing. Then a bolt of thought flashed through his mind. Jamie! What had happened to her! The realization made him try to sit up. The effort was too much for his body and he collapsed back onto the stretcher, coughing sulfur. Slowly, he faded back into the welcoming darkness that threatened to drown him in the dark beauty of it's tranquility.

He awoke next to flashing lights and loud voices. Voices that hurt his head and made it impossible to sleep. They grated on his ears like nails across a chalkboard, scrambling his thoughts and feelings. For a second he was airborne and he almost panicked, then he realized they were just changing him to another stretcher. With the last ounce of energy he reached and desperately grasped the nearest pant leg, trying to call the person's attention. The man who had put together the jacket stretcher leaned down, his face inches from James's mouth.

" Find Jamie, tell her I love her." he winced as the words scraped over his tonsils and surfaced sounding like the voice a blue whale might have, a blue whale without a tongue. Fresh tears began to flow from his eyes with the pain that accompanied the sound. James turned his head skyward and this time, the last thing he saw before he went to sleep was the night sky, in all it's glory, the stars, the fire of resolution and healing.

Epilogue

The Montreux Entertainment Complex burned on December 7, 1971, on the 30 year anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The band Deep Purple was across lake in the complex's hotel. As they watched the smoke tread across the water, one member wrote down the lyrics to what would become one of the greatest rock song of all time, Smoke on the Water. James Stromborg died early that morning. Kyle Mason eventually found Jamie Salem 2 years later and delivered James's final message. This story did not start out as a love story, nor am I sure it ended as one. That's for you, the reader, to decide. So raise your hearts and minds in a spiritual and soundless cheer to the most important things in life, such as love, and the realization that they can all be gone in one burst of flame.


End file.
